The weekend before last saw Ben and I heading down to beautiful Cornwall for the beginning of Kneehigh’s summer season at The Asylum .
Running the iPod battery down to its warning light, experiencing the great social leveller that is the Bristol Welcome Break , and polishing off half a bag of Everton Mints has become a ritual on our trips to the south west coast.
Aside from the aforementioned aspects, it’s not an unpleasant drive, and its duration gives you the added benefit of feeling like you really are getting away from it all.
With no broadband and little mobile signal, this really was a weekend escape. Of the four days we were there one and a half were spent travelling and two were spent reading. The rest of the time we squeezed in food, drink, sleep and, thanks to Kneehigh, theatre.
After the super-fun-summer-panto that was Kneehigh’s Midnight’s Pumpkin, we headed back on the Monday for Global Cornwall – promoted as a kind of old school political variety night.
En route, however, we found ourselves being flagged down by a family of cyclists on a quiet country road.
They had found a missing cat that they had seen a poster of about 5 miles up the road in a nearby village .
We being in a car and they being on push bikes with a very snotty nosed infant, it made more sense for us to head to the village to confirm said stray’s identity and contact its owners.
So I lurked conspicuously at the roadside to make sure the terrified creature didn’t ‘do one’ whilst Ben headed into the distance to track its owners down – hoping that, if there was no mobile reception, there might at least be a good old fashioned phone box, and hoping even more, that we had the right cat.
It was a touching reunion. The cat had been missing for over 4 days and was weak and skinny.
Having two cats of our own, we empathised with this grateful and emotional couple as they took their furry little friend home.
In full swing, Global Cornwall showcased some real talent and had a subversive and engaging atmosphere.
Nevertheless, as Peter Tatchell wound up his talk - which broadly speaking related to ‘ideas to change the world as we know it that we could get up and do something about our very own selves’- I thought about the cat, the small act and the difference it made to the lives of two people (and one animal) and I had the distinct feeling that saving the world could wait until tomorrow.
Yes, I felt a little smug I guess and glad that that little cat could resume its carefree existence leading what (to my mind anyway) is a near perfect life.
I was reminded of an old joke:
‘What do we want?’
‘To be like cats’
When do we want it?’
Clair Chamberlain, Director, The Corner Shop PR